


Something He Could Deserve (Day of Silence)

by totallyrandom



Series: LGBTQ Days [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Stiles Stilinski, Derek's Eyebrows, Getting Together, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Minor Allison Argent/Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall, Minor Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, NOH8, brief mention of past suicidal ideation, day of silence, i never write underage sterek, no bullying mentioned, no hate speech mentioned, silent stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-05 23:26:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4199064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totallyrandom/pseuds/totallyrandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After seeing this NOH8 photo manip of Dylan, I just really wanted a Sterek fic about it being Stiles’s senior year at Beacon Hills HS (when he’s 18) and they’re doing Day of Silence and Derek really sees Stiles, quiet for almost the first time.</p><p>Next Day of Silence: April 15, 2016<br/>More info: <a href="http://www.glsen.org/participate/programs/day-of-silence">http://www.glsen.org/participate/programs/day-of-silence</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Something He Could Deserve (Day of Silence)

 

Derek is distracted with reviewing his plan, so he doesn’t notice the lack of incessant chatter as Stiles pulls up in the Jeep with Scott. Something feels off, but Derek is already too worried, and annoyed with them, to try to pin it down.

“Where have you two been? School got out 95 minutes ago!” Derek scolds them like a grandpa.

“Lacrosse,” Scott answers as Stiles waves toward their jerseys.

“Nice priorities,” Derek grumbles then squints at Stiles, pointing to his mouth. “Am I dreaming? Did someone duct tape your mouth shut?”

Stiles just rolls his eyes then turns to survey the clearing. “Day of Silence, dude,” Scott explains. “I feel bad. I didn’t even make it an hour. But Stiles is awesome. He’s with this to the end, you know? I meant to--really, I did--but Allison was in a really pretty new dress and showing me how well it hides her new knife sheath. And I just couldn’t …”

Stiles interrupts by pushing Scott a foot to the left so he’s not blocking Allison’s line of sight anymore. She gives him a thumbs-up. Derek just stares at Stiles’s mouth.

“Maybe now’s not the best time for this?” Derek growls, but Stiles just flips him off and keeps moving. He knows there are more pressing matters, like making sure everyone else is in place to spring this trap. They do this stuff all. the. time. That’s sad, but also reassuring. Stiles is pretty confident they can get through this without him breaking his silence. He’s like 97% sure. Ok, like … 92%. 86? … It’ll be fine. He’ll make it work because this MATTERS to him.

“No one is even here to see it!” Derek snaps.

Stiles wrinkles his nose. Um, Stiles is here. Stiles is someone. Stiles will know if he breaks his silence. He’s not doing this for someone else. Well, not JUST for someone else, anyway.

The rest of the pack doesn’t say anything because they get it. Scott explained it to them this morning, and they were all unexpectedly helpful at school today--even Jackson, in his own way. They get it because they were there in class when Stiles asked Danny if he was attractive to gay dudes. They overheard him not-quite-jokingly ask Scott to make out with him in the hallway. They’ve seen his appreciative looks during sweaty fight training.

What they don’t know--what only Scott knows--is that suicide was pretty tempting for Stiles in the aftermath of the nogitsune. So, yeah, participating in the Day of Silence is really important to Stiles, even more than they know.

Derek stomps away, wondering why the pack is putting up with this nonsense in the middle of a fight. How can this matter more to Stiles than the pack’s safety? How can it matter more to Stiles than protecting Scott? Or Lydia. Stiles seems to spend all his free time with Lydia, expanding the bestiary, trying to be salutatorian to her valedictorian, and writing weekly sonnets about her hair or whatever.

Derek knows it’s Lydia, Lydia, Lydia all the time for Stiles. So why not today, when it will actually matter? Derek barely gets his head back in the game in time to circle back and push Stiles out of danger. Again.

 

***

 

After the battle, they all limp back to the den, only slightly worse for wear. Derek has already healed, but it will take the betas at least another hour--and days for the humans. Allison and Lydia say they’re fine and shoo him away. Stiles makes an ok sign and smiles quickly at him before flopping down on the couch. Derek doesn’t know whether to believe him. Wants to check him over for injuries. Wants Stiles to talk so Derek can tell if he’s lying. Derek keeps his hands to himself but keeps watch.

Derek takes a moment to eavesdrop on the pack. Everyone else is self-involved, including Stiles, who is busy scribbling new notes in the bestiary--alone, because Lydia is busy in the bathroom trying to scrub forest gunk off of her weapons-grade shoes and listing off the places Jackson was going to take her shopping tomorrow.

Finally convinced that Stiles must be feeling ok if he’s obsessing about the bestiary again, Derek takes a deep breath and just looks at him, taking a minute to see Stiles clearly for maybe the only time since sizing him up during that first meeting in the woods.

His haunted eyes make Stiles look older than his years, but really they’ve all seen more than their fair share of trauma. Derek doesn’t know the details, but anyone who loses a parent goes through hell, and that was even before werewolves entered Stiles’s life. Sometimes it feels like loss is the one thing that everyone in the pack has in common.

Derek keeps watching as Stiles taps at the tape while figuring out what to write. Derek isn’t sure he’s ever seen his mouth shut before, except to smirk. Now the usual raucous laugher and useless trivia are sealed behind his lips. The litany of ways in which Derek royally screwed up Stiles’s perfect plan is postponed, but surely he’s not lucky enough to escape it altogether. Tomorrow there will be unending questions that “they need to know about for the beastiary, Derek, since most of us didn't grow up knowing this kind of shit. And if you keep failing to tell us what we need to know BEFORE it almost kills us, the very, very, very least you can do is tell us what you know AFTER we escape it.”

Derek chuckles, drawing Stiles’s attention for a moment but Derek just shakes his head. Stiles squints at him for a long moment before huffing and looking back at the book. Stiles is the only one who ever knows what Derek means to say with his eyebrows, and he’s grateful not to have to say the words he never gets right. Stiles’s mouth always makes what he wants to say perfectly clear. At length. Derek never thought he’d miss that. Never has had to pay much attention to Stiles’s face. Never bothered to catalog Stiles’s emotional scents or his heartbeat. Because Stiles is a crap liar, and he always makes his opinions perfectly clear. Loudly. Often punctuated with flailing, and sometimes illustrated with charts and diagrams. But always, always with words.

Derek can’t figure out whether this silence was just a dangerous adolescent whim or something else. Stiles is usually the boy with the plan. The mostly-well-thought-out, if Adderall-fueled, plan. Putting the pack in danger doesn’t seem like him at all. And the pack would never accept something like that without complaint. The one saving grace of having Jackson is that he calls Stiles and Scott on their shit. So what’s going on?

Derek keeps looking at him. Really LOOKING. Trying to learn how to read Stiles. He’s clearly crap at it because he has no idea what Stiles is thinking. But he notices that Stiles looks more adult with his hair grown out. In just a T-shirt without the cover of so many layers of flannel, it’s obvious he’s grown out of his gangly stage. When did he get actual muscles in his arms? Somewhere between battles--maybe because of them--Stiles grew into a strong, capable man. 

Stiles looks up and notices that Derek is staring at him. That Derek hasn’t moved since they got back. He’s … not doing anything. Just staring. Surprised, Stiles gasps quietly through his nose. Derek startles, tries to wave him off, gesturing for him to get back to his work.

Stiles squints at him. He’s pretty fluent in Derek, but he’s suddenly unable to decipher the strange semaphore of Derek’s eyebrows before blushing and turning away. Stiles turns around to look behind him. Erica is fixing Boyd’s dislocated arm. Scott is hovering around Allison like a hummingbird as she bandages her own wounds. Nothing to make Derek embarrassed.

Stiles walks up to Derek, ducking down to force eye contact. Stiles is clearly confused--that's one expression even Derek can read loud and clear. Derek opens his mouth. Closes it quickly. Shakes his head and strides into the kitchen for a cold drink.

Stiles stares after him, having no idea how to ask what’s wrong without actually saying the words. Wondering if he upset Derek somehow. Wondering why the thought of it makes him uneasy. It's hard to pout with duct tape over his mouth, but he’d get an A for effort.

Isaac is the first to smell the tension between them. Life with his dad made Isaac really good at reading faces and body language, usually. But Stiles is plopped back down on the couch, staring at his hands. Derek has his head in the freezer, way longer than necessary given that its only contents are two ice packs for injuries. Agitated, Isaac looks for help to Scott, who only has eyes for the injured Allison--even though she only got minor scratches, from throwing herself behind trees after shooting off each arrow.

Isaac looks back and forth between Stiles and Derek. He blurts out: "Anyone want to go to the movies? With Stiles's mouth taped up, we'll actually get to hear the whole thing." Everyone else turns to stare, but Stiles must be lost in his own head. "Or ... not?” Isaac says. “Uh ... sorry? That was ... rude?" 

Scott laughs, "But it's a good idea, though. We should go do something together. You know, without bloodshed." Boyd nods. Erica grins in a way that makes him nervous for a second--he's not sure he wants to know what that's about. Jackson yells ok from the bathroom. Scott walks over to clap Stiles on the shoulder. "So, movie or no, bro?"

Stiles wrinkles his brow. Scott explains slowly, "We're going to the movies, dude. You want to come with, right?" Stiles shrugs distractedly and gets up when Scott pulls at his arm. "Well?" Scott asks. Everyone turns to look at Derek, who is quiet as usual. 

"Uh. Yeah, the pack should stick together tonight. Have fun," Derek says. Stiles rolls his eyes so hard that his whole body moves.

Scott scoffs. "It's not sticking together if we're not all there, dude."

"Oh. Ok?" Derek says after a pause that's just shy of uncomfortable.

 

*** 

 

They get to the theater just before the previews for the 10 pm showing start. Stiles doesn't look thrilled with the movie Isaac begged to see, but he's down with sticking together--and, more importantly, he wants to encourage Scott’s infrequent good ideas. After they waste time buying armloads of snacks, most of the seats are taken. Erica smirks and quickly drags Boyd to the two in the back corner. Lydia and Jackson intimidate a couple into giving them their seats. Scott and Allison run to take two in the front row. Isaac goes to sit three seats down from them, but the people in between offer to switch so they can all sit together.

Derek isn't looking directly at Stiles, but he doesn't seem to be looking for a seat either. Stiles huffs through his nose and walks to a row with a seat empty in the middle. Derek frowns as the people on the end of the row stand to let Stiles through. He grabs Stiles's arm and drags him toward the doors. Stiles tries to gesture a clumsy apology as he follows. 

Derek sneaks them into the theater next door, which is almost empty. The movie has been running for weeks, and Stiles has seen it 5 times already. He’s told Derek at least 500 times that he would looooooooove it and he should just go seeeee it already. Stiles grins and heads to his favorite seat, dead center. Derek sits in the seat right next to him. 

Stiles raises an eyebrow but Derek just nods to the 500-pound bucket of popcorn Stiles is holding and then points at his taped mouth. Stiles’s eyes go wide at this obvious oversight. He’d had to eat lunch outside alone so he wouldn’t accidentally talk at school. Stiles exhales mournfully and hands over the delicious buttery goodness. He could take the food and sit by himself for the movie, but he doesn't want to discourage Derek’s rare attempt at pack closeness.

During the movie Stiles keeps leaning over to comment only to remember he's taped shut. The excitement has to spill out somehow, though, so he ends up nudging Derek's shoulder, grabbing at his wrist, and even once squeezing his hand and swinging it around at what must be his favorite part. Even with Stiles "silent," Derek still ends up missing about a quarter of the movie. Normally that would drive him crazy, but now he's just fascinated by how much harder Stiles is to ignore without the white noise of his little-known facts.

It's easier to read his face like this, even when he can only see half of it. Easier to pick apart his scents, to track the upticks of his heartbeat, to hear the tiny gasps through his nose. Derek catalogs the upturn of his nose, ridiculously long eyelashes, rich bourbon eyes, and constellations of moles. His long fingers and strong grip when he grabs Derek's arm. The heat of his leg pressed up against Derek. 

When the movie is over, Stiles puts a hand on Derek’s thigh, making him stay to the end of the credits. He stares at him with wide eyes and gestures in a familiar way to get Derek to go on--even though Derek hasn't actually started talking yet. Derek stares back, gets a bit lost in his eyes until Stiles squints at him and tilts his head inquiringly. It reminds Derek so much of a puppy that he laughs. Stiles pushes at his chest, offended without being able to ask why. Derek catches his hand and holds it over his heart.

Derek can’t help himself. He leans in slowly as Stiles freezes in place, eyes wide. Derek hugs him tight, sighing in relief at knowing that they made it through another battle safely and that he finally figured out what it is about Stiles that is just so ... Just SO ... 

It must be the relief of victory, the flush on Stiles's cheeks, the scent of home tinged with a surprising hint of want all combining to make Stiles shine like a trophy, like something Derek could win. Like something he could deserve. Like someone who's not still a month away from graduation and soon leaving for college, probably. But a month is a long time and a whole summer seems like forever.

Stiles holds on tightly, panting against Derek's neck. Derek squeezes before letting go, dragging his nose along Stiles's neck as he pulls back. Stiles gasps through his nose, looks down at his watch, and rips the tape off his mouth before throwing himself at Derek's face, laughing and smacking kisses on his lips or near his lips, sloppy in his enthusiasm. He drops his head down on Derek's shoulder and just breathes, trying to believe that he can have this. That Derek wants this. Wants him.

Derek slides his thumbs up Stiles's cheeks and grasps his head, making him look up. Derek's eyebrows ask whether this is ok. Stiles just nods, unwilling to speak even though he can now.

Not speaking has done them a lot of favors today, and Stiles isn’t willing to break the spell.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic ever. I still like it.
> 
> Photo credit: unknown  
> (It's a manip I stole from <http://dontgobrienmyheart.tumblr.com/post/95026961380/tw-cast-noh8-love-is-louder-noh8-campaign-love>)


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